[ They've figured out by now that the most comfortable place to do this is with Welt lying slightly reclined on a sofa and Midnight next to him, sitting in a chair pulled from the table, holding Welt's arm steady as he sucks gently at the flow of blood from the inside of his elbow. There are snacks and fruit juice on the side table next to them, along with tissues and bandages. It's a pretty well-oiled machine by now.
The only awkward part on Midnight's part was having to send the first text, sitting down and making the initial explanation. "It's ice cream incident. It'll only be until there's no danger in taking the blood at the grocery store." And that's the truth! It really is. Midnight was even willing to call it a mental block, something that he'd get over at some point soon. Very soon. He never meant to make this someone else's problem, and he means it.
The actual process, though... Well, as long as Welt was willing, Midnight's done a couple of feedings before, enough to make figuring out logistics relatively easy. Is... is this normal now? Midnight's not really thinking about it in those terms, outside of not wanting it to be normal, but at least the process is smooth now. (He's serious about this being temporary. The only awkward part of this whole mess was having to show up at Welt's door in the first place.)
He pulls away, licks his lips, then grabs an alcohol wipe and presses it against the fangmarks. ]
Think I'm done. Phew.
[ He feels a lot better. Warmer. Less hungry.
(Does he think about this in terms of having his mouth on someone else's skin? Honestly, yes and no. Yes, in that it's necessary; no, as in... Come on, it's like sucking out poison from a scalebeast bite, except he's the one benefitting from the process. Midnight's good at focusing on the bigger picture.) ]
action; sometime in early September;
The only awkward part on Midnight's part was having to send the first text, sitting down and making the initial explanation. "It's ice cream incident. It'll only be until there's no danger in taking the blood at the grocery store." And that's the truth! It really is. Midnight was even willing to call it a mental block, something that he'd get over at some point soon. Very soon. He never meant to make this someone else's problem, and he means it.
The actual process, though... Well, as long as Welt was willing, Midnight's done a couple of feedings before, enough to make figuring out logistics relatively easy. Is... is this normal now? Midnight's not really thinking about it in those terms, outside of not wanting it to be normal, but at least the process is smooth now. (He's serious about this being temporary. The only awkward part of this whole mess was having to show up at Welt's door in the first place.)
He pulls away, licks his lips, then grabs an alcohol wipe and presses it against the fangmarks. ]
Think I'm done. Phew.
[ He feels a lot better. Warmer. Less hungry.
(Does he think about this in terms of having his mouth on someone else's skin? Honestly, yes and no. Yes, in that it's necessary; no, as in... Come on, it's like sucking out poison from a scalebeast bite, except he's the one benefitting from the process. Midnight's good at focusing on the bigger picture.) ]